I'll meet you at the end of the world
by Julie Verne
Summary: Season 5, episode 9. Root/Shaw femslash
1. Chapter 1

They'd spent the night in the woods, a ridiculous game of chicken as Shaw played out her options, tried to ground herself in reality. Of all the times Shaw had shot herself in the head, of all the time Root had seen her do it, she'd never offered a counter offer. Never threatened her life when Shaw threatened her own.

At dawn they met the others by the river, and the conversation turned to plans.

"You need rest, Shaw," Reese said.

"Come home with me. Take the day off, let Reese and Fusco follow your leads," Root said. Shaw nodded, clearly exhausted.

* * *

Root's apartment was in a different building than usual, on a different floor. For the first time, Root's apartment was different. It added plausibility, along with the Morse she'd heard, that she was in reality. When Root unlocked the door, her apartment was unfamiliar. Similar; single room studio, purple sheets on the bed.

Maybe it was a trick. Maybe it was another simulation.

But when Root shut the door behind them, Shaw stepped into Root, wrapped her arms around her from behind. Root turned slowly in Shaw's arms, careful not to jostle or startle her. Root brought her arms up around Shaw, hands gentle as she grasped the shorter woman through her thick coat. Shaw's forehead rested on Root's collarbone, breath filtering in through Root's shirt. Root waited for Shaw to let go, but she didn't. Just held tightly to Root like she was her anchor to reality.

Shaw pulled away a little, finally. Root pulled off her coat and jacket, carefully peeled Shaw out of hers too, dropped them on the floor and stepped back into Shaw, ignoring when moisture met her chest from Shaw's eyes. Shaw grasped Root again, didn't seem like she was going anywhere. Content just to hold the taller woman tight against her, to let Root hold her like she'd longed to hold her for years.

"We can do this all day, but you need a shower, so do I, and we should probably eat. We can come back to this."

Shaw pulled away, swiped at her face.

"Yeah," she said, not really agreeing to anything. Just trying to gather her wits after Root's proximity.

"Breakfast or dinner?" Root asked, heading to the bathroom.

"Either," Shaw said, collapsing onto the couch, exhausted from the mental gymnastics, from being on the run, from her escape. Root was right, she could use a shower, a meal, a long sleep. Some respite from Samaritan and The Machine.

Root came out, rifled through a drawer, held out some clothes to Shaw.

"Go shower. Food will be ready when you are." Shaw made no move to take the clothes, so Root put them in her lap, restrained herself from touching Shaw's shoulder. Apart from the limpet act at the door, Shaw had been evasive, trying to keep herself away from Root, possibly to protect her still.

* * *

Notes:

Short hiatus on 4 alarm due to travelling. This was in my google docs with 5k words so... not update-update?  
Let me know if you enjoyed it, will be updating when I can. Or let me know if I'm putting too much stock in this and can take a break for a few more weeks.  
I displaced some ribs yelling 'nuit danger' at moose on the road. So Canada is fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Root looked at Shaw as she stood.

"Have you been bugged?" Root asked. "In any of the time Samaritan had you, do you know if they…"

"They... put something behind my ear, in the simulations. Before the simulations? I can't feel it now though. Usually I just cut it out but… nothing there."

"Government agencies have a thing for ears. I know Harry already swept you, but do you mind if I check?"

Shaw shrugged.

Root stepped forward, cupped Shaw's face, fingers probing behind Shaw's ears, moved to the base of her skull. She looked down at Shaw's exhausted face, really here after all this time. Really alive and warm where Root's fingers were touching her. Root looked down, watched as her hands cupped Shaw's face on their own, watched her thumb brush over Shaw's lips, watched as Shaw turned her face into Root's hand, kissed her palm. Root leaned in, placed a soft and tentative closed-mouth kiss on Shaw's cheek, and when Shaw moved her face out of Root's palm, her mouth, surprised when Shaw didn't object, too worried by the tense moment to take it further. She could feel Shaw's exhaustion against her own lips, could feel how soft Shaw was, how soft her lips were, something she didn't have time to notice last time.

When Root pulled away, uncertain, Shaw leaned forward and caught her mouth again, clumsy but adamant, lips open and damp.

Root pulled back a little, still very close.

"Everything checks out?" Shaw asked cockily.

"Absolutely," Root replied, and Shaw could taste the word in her own mouth. Shaw inhaled sharply, held her breath.

"Great. I gotta shower," Shaw said brusquely, ashamed of her need for Root, she was already disoriented and unsure of her own reality again - but Root tasted exactly the same as she remembered - not from their last kiss but from her tainted memories. Not that she would turn down this opportunity, but… she was on edge, more so than usual. Usually she wasn't suspicious until much, much later in the simulations.

Shaw stared at herself in the mirror, trying to make sense of the shape of her face. Wondering if Samaritan was just trying a new tactic.

If so, she could fall into old patterns. Have her time with Root, the only time that meant something. Go kill the rest, if they turned on her, then herself. But first…

First she could have Root again. For a day. Maybe more. The only peace she'd found in months had been with Root, in a false embrace - but that didn't mean she didn't feel it, couldn't remember the way Root had touched her.

There was a knock on the door. "Food's ready," Root called.

Shaw shrugged on the shirt Root had given her, pulled on the underwear and pants Root had provided. All black. A bit tight, a bit long, but decent.

They smelled like Root, and Shaw raised the shirt to her face, breathed it in with her eyes closed.

She left her own clothes in the hamper, stepped back into the apartment.

* * *

Root had made omelets and steak. Watched nervously as Shaw shoved them both in her mouth as fast as she could, no manners, just a hunger that Root was happy to sate.

"You're a damn good cook," Shaw said finally through a mouthful of steak. Looked up at Root watching her. "You eating?"

Root sat down, took an omelette from the serving plate, dug at it with her fork, still watching Shaw.

"You got my message," Root said finally.

"Four alarm fire? Yeah. Gave me hope. Got me out of there."

"Good," Root said, turning back to her food. "I was coming for you. The Machine... Didn't want to tell me where you were. Thought it was too dangerous."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. But while we're here, please let me take care of you," Root said earnestly. Shaw looked up. Ordinarily she would have rolled her eyes but instead she nodded.

* * *

Shaw took her plate to the kitchen, rinsed it, dropped it in the dishwasher. She waited with thinly veiled impatience as Root finished her meal and packed away the leftovers, ran the dishwasher, watched her, hands resting on the kitchen counter behind her. Root stepped into her when she was done, looked down at Shaw.

"Now, where were we?"

Shaw's arms came up of their own accord, and she could feel her chest heaving as she pulled Root into her, Root braced herself on the counter behind Shaw for a moment, then rested her hands on Shaw's back. It felt like Shaw was... crying, but Shaw didn't cry. Even if she thought this was a simulation, Root didn't think Shaw would cry, much less so if she thought it was real. It spoke to how much Shaw had been through, that she had let her defenses down this much. Shaw had been tortured before, Root knew. And before today, Root would never have been able to even imagine Shaw crying. Emotions other than anger were foreign to Shaw, yet here she was showing affection and… sorrow, all in the space of an hour.

"I'm here," she said finally. "I'm really here, I promise." Shaw pulled back far enough away to look at Root, then, hands on the lapel of Root's shirt she pulled her in, planted a kiss on her surprised mouth, face wet with tears, kiss just as unexpected and haphazard as the last one. Shaw dropped her head back to Root's chest, sobbed against her.

"Sorry," she finally mumbled, muffled against Root's chest. "Some sort of physiological response. Just something my body seems to be doing. Something I seem to have trouble making it not do right now."

"No apologies," Root said, pulling Shaw tighter against her, glad that Shaw wasn't watching the deluge from her own face. Root's hands wandered Shaw's back, ran over the shirt she'd provided, feeling the warmth of Shaw in her arms, like she'd wanted for so long, still confused as to why Shaw was allowing this, still wondering why Shaw was here. Why Shaw had let her take her home, unaware of that part of all the simulations, unaware that this was the pattern of Shaw's life now. Aware, though, that the mental strain had caught up with Shaw, was making a mess of her, and that she might not be able to discern reality from the simulations of the past.

Shaw swiped at her face, pulled away finally.

Shaw looked exhausted. Root cupped Shaw's face, wiped away the rest of the tears. Leaned in and kissed Shaw gently, so gently, like she was afraid she'd set off another crying fit. Like Shaw was something fragile. And Shaw, slowly, hesitantly, kissed back, so softly that Root melted against her. The hand not on Shaw's face grasped for Shaw's hip, found it, wrapped around it as Root forgot how to balance, pressed against Shaw.

Shaw pulled away first, set her face against Root's chest again.

"You're exhausted. No wonder you're…" Root was going to say 'compliant', but thought better of it. "You're all worn out. Come on, get to bed."

"You were up all night too," Shaw pointed out.

"I have errands," Root said nervously.

"No. Finch told you to stay with me. You need your rest too."

Root nodded. "I'll shower and join you. Lie down, Sameen." Root guided Shaw to the bed, lifted the covers, settled her under them. Ran her hands over Shaw over the blankets. Looked at her like she was something precious.

"Sleep if you can. I won't be long." Root said. She hesitated, then kissed Shaw on the forehead. Shaw gave a contented sigh and rolled onto her side.

* * *

Notes:

Let me know how you're liking it. Canada is amazing. So many peach flavours things, but I am yet to see a beaver.  
Heh, beaver.


	3. A careless man's careful daughter

Shaw could hear a conversation from the bathroom, over the water. Wondered if she was talking to the machine or the boys.

In all the simulations, it was always Root who took care of her, Root who never stopped looking for her. And Shaw had never minded. If Samaritan was worse at its job, if it had paired her with Reese or Fusco instead… it would still be a relief to be here with Root now.

* * *

Shaw watched as Root came into the room, loose pyjamas, towelling her hair. Root threw the towel on the back of a chair, slid under the covers next to Shaw, surprised when Shaw didn't object.

"Did we do this before?" Root asked quietly, rolling on her side to face Shaw.  
Shaw swallowed, suddenly shy in front of the woman she'd been with so many times. Root continued. "You're acting like you expected me to join you. I was expecting you to object."

"Yeah, well, got some perspective." Root moved closer, rested her head on Shaw's shoulder, pressed herself against the shorter woman.

"Did we do anything else, all those simulations?" Root asked as Shaw's hand found her hip, pulled Root closer. "You seem comfortable with me now. You weren't before."

"Samaritan was very... kind to the avatar of you. The only kindness I've known in all this time came from you, or a facsimile thereof. This is familiar."

"This is new, for me. Sorry for the questions."

"I don't mind. Makes it more real. And that you're... restrained. Not... pushing this."

"Pushing what?"

"You have me in your bed," Shaw pointed out. "And you haven't made a move."

"You're exhausted and just tried to kill yourself," Root retorted. "I know better than to take advantage of someone vulnerable."

Shaw tipped Root's face back, kissed her gently.

"And that's why I come home with you, every time." Shaw wrapped an arm around Root, pulled her closer and allowed herself to drift off to sleep, sure she was safe for the moment. Until the next flash, seizure, simulation. They'd leave her be until they were sure she would or would not lead them to The Machine.

Shaw bolted upright, hand reaching for a weapon Root had locked up in her gunsafe a few hours ago. Root blinked awake quickly, not used to a warm body next to her in bed. She looked up at Shaw.

"If I touch you, will it make it better or worse?" Root asked, and Shaw turned a vacant stare at her.

"Better," Shaw said eventually, and Root reached a slow hand toward Shaw's bicep.

"If you think this is just another simulation, why didn't you end it early? You had the gun pointed at your head."

"You hadn't bedded me yet. No point in ending it early if I don't…" Shaw trailed off, realising she'd revealed too much.

"You… we…?" Root asked incredulously. Wondering if this was why Shaw had been so compliant in coming home from her, realising this was why she was so willing to kiss Root.

"Seven thousand times you bedded me," Shaw said finally. "Seven thousand times I was willing. More than willing."

Root's mouth dropped open in surprise, and she had to compose herself slowly.

"You... had sex with me every time you found me. Over seven thousand times?"

"Well, yeah," Shaw shrugged, as though there had been no other option. "You started it."

"You were happy to see me?" Root asked. Shaw nodded, ran her hand through Root's hair.

"Always happy to see you, whether or not you're really there."

"Well…" Root trailed off.

"Well what?" Shaw asked.

"Well... was it any good? Was I any good?" Root asked, hoping Shaw wouldn't notice her blushing in the dim light.

"Wouldna done it that many times if it wasn't pretty damn good," Shaw said smugly.

"And these simulations... they were real to you?"

"Yeah."

"So…" Root tugged up the front of her shirt, exposed a scar over her ribs. "You saw this, right?"

"Yeah. I know it's there. I've touched it."

"You've never seen this before," Root said seriously.

"I've seen it." Shaw ran her tongue over her lips as she looked at Root and Root let her shirt's hem go, suddenly breathless.

"It's almost not fair," Root said contemplating and compiling the new data.

"What?" Shaw asked.

"You have… those memories, time you think you spent with me. You probably remember how I feel. And I've got nothing. Just one frenzied kiss before you ran off."

Shaw blushed. She could remember how Root's skin had felt, had tasted.

"It was a living nightmare, other than that. Everything other than that sucked."

"And now?"

"And now? This is enough."

"Not for me. I'm seven thousand behind you. This is new for me."

"You told me to rest," Shaw said pointedly, and for the first time out of all the simulations she was able to fall back asleep without engaging with a worried Root.

* * *

Notes:

I saw a beaver! They're massive, I thought it was a feral dog but it was a beaver and it was sunning itself on a log for ages.  
Very cool. Made it out of the Rockies in one piece, repelled down a scree cliff, popped my hip out twice so far this trip/month but all is well. I went to dyke march and pride and waterfalls and Canada is just awesome guys. I missed it so much.


	4. I'll meet you in the unknown

Root hadn't expected Shaw to be gentle, but she woke up later, felt Shaw's fingers trailing over her back. She sighed, rolled onto her side. Shaw's hand followed her movement, ended up on Root's hip.

"You're being nice to me," Root said, teasing. Shaw's fingers reached up to trace Root's cheekbones, cup her face, run over the scar behind Root's ear. Root watched her curiously. Seeing this side of Shaw was like... unlocking a secret level of a video game that hadn't been completed, ghost sprites in the background and no clear path to take. Shaw leaned in, kissed Root softly.

Root trailed her fingers over Shaw's collarbone, drifted up to her face to trail those cheekbones, that nose, those eyebrows. Drifted back down to Shaw's chest, ran down her sternum. Shaw just watched her, breath catching where Root touched something sensitive.

"You'd let me do anything I wanted to you, wouldn't you?" Root asked in wonder.

"I've been through everything you wanted to do. Yeah. Anything. There's nothing you've done to me that I won't enjoy," Shaw said, comfortable on her side with Root this close to her. Root had expected her to be more active, more aggressive. But this… Shaw allowing Root to be gentle with her, still obviously exhausted… made Root feel a little like she was taking advantage of Shaw's fragile mental state, her exhausted physical state.

"How do you know I haven't turned, that I'm not working for Samaritan?"

"Because you love The Machine. Almost as much as you love me." Shaw said bluntly, and Root looked at her then, the freckles that played across her skin when Root was this close. She felt caught out, but Shaw was so matter of fact about knowing that Root loved her. That Root loved her more than she loved The Machine. "And because you're not really here. Neither am I. Samaritan is just being more inventive with their simulations.

"Okay, two things wrong with your theory." Root said as she thought thing over. "One, you have me considerably undressed in bed and we're just talking. That doesn't sound like something Samaritan would put up with, from what you're saying. Simulation Root would have already had her way with you."

"And two?" Shaw asked, curious.

"Look at your hand," Root said pointedly.

Shaw looked down to where her hand rested on the curve of Root's hip, thumb running over the front of her hipbone.

"So?" Shaw asked, unable to see Root's point.

"What's it doing," Root asked, curious to how Shaw would interpret it.

"Touching you?"

"Well yes. But your thumb."

"Stroking? I don't know."

"And why is it doing that?" Root asked pointedly.

"I don't know," Shaw said again.

Root propped her cheek on her hand. "In neurotypical people that would be a sign of affection," she said matter of factly. "I don't know what you perceive it as, or what you think it  
means, but the message I'm receiving is surprisingly affectionate."

Shaw kept watching her hand. Root was right. It's the way she would absentmindedly pet Bear when he was seated at her feet. Shaw hadn't been in control when she'd shot any of the others; the things had happened as Shaw watched, someone else in control of her body as she watched. But with Root, she'd never felt the push behind her ear. Never felt the pressure behind her eyes. She'd always, always been willing.

"Maybe I'm just getting you warmed up?"

"Oh, I'm warm already. Like a four alarm fire in an oil refinery."

"You put the brakes on before?"

"You needed your rest. And I like to watch you sleep, curled up like some wild animal that trusts me enough to sleep even though I'm nearby."

"Samantha," Shaw breathed, uncertain as to how Root would take the use of her real name. Shaw had never tried it, but it felt nice in her mouth, and nice now in the air between them.

Root gave Shaw a long, considering look.

"Yes, Sameen?" She said finally.

"I know who you are."

"And who am I?"

Shaw couldn't answer, just ran her fingers over Root's cheek as a response.

"Someone I tolerate," she said finally.

Root understood. Shaw still thought it was a simulation. Was holding out for the feelings of someone she wasn't even sure was real.

"And you want me to do what I want to you?" Root asked curiously, picking up the conversation from before.

"It's the only part of this cycle that doesn't suck." Shaw said, smiling. "Later, I'll die. But for now... I have everything I could want." Shaw's fingers were light on Root's skin, so gentle. It made sense. If Shaw thought this wasn't real, she could afford to be gentle, to break down, knowing Root would never know. Knowing no one would ever know, save her captors. Root kissed her, all of her time spent alone waiting behind her teeth, all her expectations and disappointments, all her longing.

Root tugged at Shaw's shirt, and Shaw pulled it off for her. Root bit her lip as she traced her fingers over Shaw's bare skin, pulled her own shirt off too.

Then she pressed herself against Shaw, breath hitching as their torsos met, rested her head on the pillow next to Shaw's, fingers exploring Shaw's ribcage.

"Anything else can wait. You need your rest, sweetie." Root ran her fingers over Shaw's face and Shaw grabbed her wrist, kissed those fingers. Noted the black fingernails.

"You always want me," Shaw said, sounding confused, and a little disappointed. She let go of Root's hand, and almost of its own accord it ran through Shaw's hair, cradled her skull.

"I always do," Root agreed. "But not at the detriment to your health. This is enough, for now. And when we wake up, in a few hours…" Root freed her hand, slid it down Shaw's chest to cup a breast, breath catching at the softness she hadn't expected. "We can make up for lost time. If you want to."

Shaw raised her hand from under the covers, let her fingers trail through Root's hair. "You're amazing," she said quietly. "Every single time, I wonder how I managed to hold out so long, when you were so obviously willing. I think I was trying to protect you. But this… this isn't real, and if I have to go through this again, I want the only part that makes any of this worth it."

"And you'll have it. After you sleep. You're safe here, sleep."


	5. Shattered

Root ran her hand over Shaw's back and watched in the dim light of the windows as Shaw's eyes finally drooped closed. She sighed and stroked Shaw's face, pushed her hair behind her ear, traced her cheekbones. Drank in the sight of the woman she thought she had lost. She looked so much smaller, so much softer. Root had seen Shaw sleep before; had been the cause of such sleep previously, but even knocked out by a taser or drugs Shaw had exuded a restless energy, like a tightly wound spring ready to unfurl.

But now, Shaw's hand still resting on Root's hip, her face slack in sleep, she looked almost peaceful, something Root found hard to reconcile with Shaw. There was an occasional twitch or shudder, an involuntary movement now and then, but otherwise she seemed content. Root sighed. The idea of such a subdued Shaw saddened her, the fighting spirit she'd seen briefly in the park pre-dawn all but gone.

Root had been on the go for so long she hadn't slept much, but now that she had Shaw, knew she was alive, was finally with her - in her bed no less - and it was still daylight outside - she wasn't tired, but she was reluctant to leave Shaw alone, was reluctant to pull herself away from the hand resting on her even in sleep. The Machine was silent, had been since Root first saw Shaw. It was unnerving but it gave Root time to think.

7 thousand times, she thought. Shaw had been willing, she'd said. And simulation Root must have been too. What would it have been like? The Machine ran simulations that Root could only hear, but Root was sure Samaritan and its followers would be more sophisticated, since they were government funded and not in hiding. It sounded like it had felt real to Shaw, like Shaw really felt like she knew what being with Root was like with great certainty. And now, now that Shaw was really here, did she still think it was a simulation? A lot of what Shaw said hadn't made much sense, and she seemed resigned to the fact that she was going to have to shoot herself again, Root pulling the gun on herself only delaying the inevitable.

Root's fingers found the spot that Shaw had indicated, behind her ear, a matching spot on her own head but Shaw's skin smooth and unbroken. No scar, no bump. However they'd done it, they hadn't left a mark. Shaw looked in pretty good condition too. A little thinner, but just as strong. When she'd tackled Root, she'd felt it.

"What did they do to you, sweetheart?" Root asked quietly, fingers still running over Shaw's scalp.

Shaw smiled in her sleep, her hand tightening on Root's hip.

* * *

Notes:

If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice. So let me tell you who we were. Let me tell you who you are. Someone once asked me if I had learned anything from it all. So let me tell you what I learned. I learned: everyone dies alone. But if you meant something to someone; if you helped someone; or loved someone; if even a single person remembers you; then maybe you never really die. And maybe, this isn't the end at all.

* * *

If you can read this, I made it through.

Let me tell you what I learned. Pain is permanent; pain relief is temporary. Brain damage is permanent.

Everyone dies alone. But if even a single person remembers you, maybe you never really die.

I don't mean much to anyone, but typing into the infinite that is the internet is immortality in its own way.

I've gotten off the medication that dulled my existence enough to make life bearable and I reread this after a well over year. I'm not the same person; I don't remember writing any of the previous chapters. I have't watched the show since 2018. But I felt driven by a force to... finish this. Keep going.

I will try my best.


	6. Fox and the hound

Shaw woke up to the scent of Root, close in the bed, Root's hand drifting over Shaw's forearm. Root smelled metallic, almost. Like gunpowder, like gunmetal, like motorbike oil. Like blood. A little like the rose-scented shampoo Shaw had also used in the shower, like the deodorant Shaw had also used.

Root doesn't have much of a scent, otherwise. Normally. It's just that Shaw was so close to her now, nose buried in Root's soft hair. In the simulations, Root had smelled of honey.

In her time at the makeup counter, Shaw had heard the phrase 'floral undertones', and it made Shaw think of Root, and now she knew she'd been correct.

Shaw didn't wear scents. Like a hunter, she needed to disguise herself, fit in with any surroundings. She used a men's deodorant, no perfume. Nothing that would identify her. Nothing that would alert anyone to her presence. Nothing that would break the illusion that the shadows that covered her were empty. Nothing that would prevent her from taking one step forward and taking a life, then sinking effortlessly back into darkness.

Shaw buried her nose deeper into Root's neck. Root's hand stilled when she realised Shaw was awake, and Shaw heard Root's breath deliberately slow, metered out to create the illusion of sleep.

Outside, in the bright light of day, Shaw could hear people going about their daily lives. Children yelling, cars driving past.

Inside the daylight was muted, it was lazy, it was still. Shaw didn't know if Root knew that Shaw knew Root was awake. She huddled closer, trying to bury herself in the soft spot she'd found in Root's neck.

It had been too long. It felt like forever. This Root knew things Samaritan couldn't know - unless they'd taken The Machine and her people hostage. In which case, they wouldn't be running simulations. They'd already have the information But Shaw was still edgy, still wondering. Still waiting for that flash of light. The time glitches. For Root to ask her where The Machine was hidden. As much as Shaw loves Root, she can't tell her where The Machine is.

The real Root would know anyway. If it was Root, she would lead Shaw there. If all these simulations happened in her brain, why wouldn't Samaritan have just picked out the part that knows where The Machine was? Why did they have to... create this world, with its safe place, only to bring it crashing down.

Shaw stifled a whimper and felt Root tense. If Root was going to pretend to be asleep, it meant she wouldn't object to Shaw doing whatever she wanted to her to maintain that illusion. It meant Shaw could touch Root the way she wanted to. Shaw moved her hand from Root's hip to her back, climbed her vertebra with her fingers, auditing her way up, checking they were all still there and accounted for. Shaw was never sure how much Samaritan knew about human anatomy, but Root's body always seemed to check out whenever Shaw checked it out. Shaw reached the back of Root's neck, dug her fingers into the tension at the base of her skull, then cradled her head as she moved Root onto her back. From there her hand skittered over an area just under Root's right collarbone, tracing the edges of an old wound. Her hand moved down to Root's sternum and rested over Shaw's heart. Root could hear her softly counting out the beats, willed her heart to not give her away.

And then, to Root's surprise, Shaw's hand was followed by her head, an ear over Root's heartbeat, Shaw nestled in like a fox gone to ground after days of being chased by baying hounds.

Shaw rested one hand on Root's ribcage, the other tucked under her chin. She couldn't get any closer to Root if she tried. She was still wired from days on the run, from the paranoia that fueled her every waking moment .

If she fell asleep here, she might wake up somewhere else again. Strapped into the wrong machine. But the steady beat under her head was comforting, and even Shaw had to sleep eventually. It was the company she kept while she slept.

And even if it was a simulation, it hadn't run its course yet. No one had asked her where The Machine was. So either way, with whichever Root this one was, she had time. She would have more time, ticking out like the beat of the heart that filled her senses.

Root finally breathed out when she felt Shaw's head fall heavier on her chest, finally raised her hands to cradle the suddenly fragile head against her. Pulled her closer. Root was bone tired, but the situation required monitoring.

* * *

Notes:

There is still so much wrong with me but at least I can write again now I'm off the medication.  
Not sure where this one is going but bear with me and I'm sure we can find out.


	7. Walls

Root woke up again, uncomfortable on her back.

She rolled onto her side, then realised Shaw had been on top of her. But Shaw huddled straight back into her, arm that had been across Root's chest now resting on Root's shoulder, snuggling in like a puppy to a litter.

"This is nice, but I'm waiting for what's coming." Shaw sad finally.

"What's coming?"

"You, later. Me too, I hope." Shaw's tone was light but her face was serious. Root blushed in the dimly lit room. "Then Samaritan comes for us all."

"I should get back to work," Root said carefully. "Please stay in bed and rest. You've had a long… time."

"What kind of work?" Shaw asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

"She... hasn't told me yet," Root said, not wanting to disclose The Machine's complete radio silence. The Machine's apparent suspicion of Shaw. "But I can help the others. I can stay here with you to do that. I'm not needed anywhere else today. I can start shutting down eyes, tracking down agents."

"And when you do, I'm taking them down." Shaw's hands, so gentle in Root's hair, on the base of her skull, her masterful fingers working away at the tension there almost made Root forget why they were here. She made eye contact with Shaw, saw none of the usual ire there. Just... resignation. If it were someone else, they might look peaceful, but Root knew Shaw better than that. Unable to help herself, Root drew Shaw in closer for a slow, unhurried kiss, Shaw's fingers soft on her face.

Root hadn't ever been kissed so… lovingly. She didn't have a lot to compare it to, but it was the most positive emotion she could remember experiencing since Hannah's friendship.

Root tore herself away reluctantly, got out of bed and padded over to the table, pulling out a laptop as she sat down.

Root looked over at Shaw as she rolled onto her side, staring at the wall. All the fire had gone out of her, leaving an empty shell. One with memories, sure, but even the usually detached Shaw still seemed withdrawn.

It took 15 minutes of Shaw sighing, tossing and turning before Root gave in and carried the laptop over to the bed, climbed under the covers and let Shaw sprawl over her, laptop resting on a muscular back. Shaw feel asleep in minutes at the sound of Root's short fingernails on the keyboard.

* * *

"If you're not real, you'll never know. If you're not real, Samaritan and the handlers already know. And just on the off chance that you are real, you deserve to know." Shaw's voice broke through Root's concentration and she started; she hadn't noticed Shaw had woken up.

"Know what?" Root asked, still looking at her screen where she had used a vulnerability she had created for the military-grade Gartner Quadrant leading firewall OS she knew the government liked to use on the off-chance it was the security gateway the company she was trying to infiltrate used. From there she had built a shell tunnel through their VPN into the SQL AG cluster backend where she'd deployed a script that was self-replicating in defense to cover her as she she dug into a business she suspected of having Samaritan leanings. People were getting paid; it was government work. And the government liked to keep track of money, so Human Resources and Finance were the places to look under the hood. It was harder without The Machine, but not impossible. Shaw was silent, so Root looked away from her screen for a moment to where soulful brown eyes were staring at her.

Shaw looked up at Root with weary eyes, black bruises still under them.

"You know," Shaw said quietly.

"I won't if you don't tell me," Root said patiently. Shaw sighed, removed her hand from where it had been resting on Root's ribs and rubbed her face. In the Shaw Root knew before, it would have been exasperation. Now it was exhaustion.

"I care about you," Shaw whispered finally, and Root had to try not to laugh because while she did in fact know, she also knew how much it had cost Shaw to say it out loud.

"I know. I've always known," Root said. "You kissed me in the stock exchange. You could have chosen any other ruse but you knew it was a suicide mission and you wanted to kiss me."

"You bugged me so much, when we first met. But part of that was..."

"The undeniable attraction to someone as hot as me?" Root smirked.

"Yeah," Shaw said, and Root had been expecting a comeback, some denial. It was concerning. It wasn't just physical exhaustion that was paying a toll on Shaw. Her walls were down, much like the firewall she had interrogated. The idiots had identity awareness enabled; Root could see user traffic flowing through the boroughs. She was so close. She tapped out another sequence, then ran a wireshark, the exported her grifted data into JSON to run in her ArcGIS simulation of NYC. She examined the heatmap for a moment, slid around dates and times and quickly called Harold, reeling off a list of numbers Shaw dimly recognized as GPS locations. Root hung off with an admonishment to be careful, and put her laptop down.

"Are you embarrassed that you care about me?" Root asked, holding Shaw instead of her laptop.

"No, it's just... unusual."

"You care about Bear," Root said gently as she drew Shaw closer to herself again. Shaw's face softened.

"Bear's different. I don't know what it is about you but you're like a radio station frequency I can just pick up on a clear night." Root sighed, understanding. "Like voices on an old tape."

"We're on the same wavelength?" Root asked, and felt Shaw nod against her chest.

* * *

Everything I've written about in this chapter is possible; everything is possible for one human to accomplish.  
I'm not that human, but I work with enough different fields that this is plausible.  
Every time I'm asked if I want to move into Security I say 'ew gross, I hate security' but from writing this chapter, maybe I don't.

Um. I can explain it if you're interested.


	8. Are you stroganof to be my man

Chapter 8: Are you stroganoff (to be my man)

* * *

Root let Shaw fall asleep on her again, intermittently tapping at her ear. Nothing. There had been a few blasts of static the few times Shaw had kissed her, when she had kissed Shaw.

But otherwise, complete radio silence. Root sighed and spoke quietly.

"What's going on?" Root asked finally to the quiet room. Shaw shrugged her way awake, watched Root with a hunted gaze.

"I thought you knew?" Shaw asked, yawning. "End of the world type thing, all over again." Root sighed, took her hands off of Shaw.

"I need to go… check on some things. Stay here, please."

"You're going to see her," Shaw said flatly. "I don't need to go with you. I don't need to show you where she is." It was like a switch had flipped and Shaw had braced herself for the scenario by rote since she'd been through it so many times before.

"No, you don't need to come. You know where she is, I know where she is. I can go by myself. I mean, you're welcome to come with me, but considering…"

"Considering you might not be real and you might have just been waiting all this time for me to lead you to her…" Shaw filled in the blanks.

"Considering that, and the way you've slept through everything, I think it's best for everyone if you stay here." Root said as gently as she could, knowing Shaw didn't like to be protected, be taken care of. She'd been putting up with it like a champ, which was worrying Root almost as much as how much Shaw had been sleeping.

"And you'll be careful? Be safe?" Shaw asked quickly, looking away. "You'll be back? You'll come back?" Shaw sounded worried.

"One for the road?" Root asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Just in case I don't make it back?"

"No," Shaw said and rolled over. "This time… this time is ok. Everything always is until we… and then… so if we don't… even if you don't come back..."

"If we don't then you're safe here a little longer?" Root asked finally, and Shaw still wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Something like that." It wasn't that she didn't want Root, wasn't like having Root pressed against her was in any way normal to her now, wasn't like it didn't leave her wanting more… but Shaw was tired and her body kept trying to shut down and Root deserved a better time that Shaw could give her at the moment. That, and it always seemed to start after the albeit amazing sex. The shooting. Killing Reece, Lionel, Harold. Root watching her kill their friends. Root trying to get her to lead her to The Machine. The blood, the feel of the bullet breaking through her skull and then nothing.

Nothing but that damned table and the adrenaline again.

Anyone watching her wouldn't be fooled. Soon Shaw would find herself seducing Root, not even sure if it was her that wanted it. Not even sure if Root had wanted it, had ever wanted it, had ever wanted her. Not sure herself when she had started wanting Root, but she's pretty sure it was before the simulations. Pretty sure Root had flirted with her back then, and she'd had to act annoyed.

Pretty sure that the night in the safe house Shaw had nearly had Root against every surface, so frustrated by her casual remarks, the way Root's eyes raked over her.

Pretty sure that at any point on their trip to Alaska that Shaw could have knocked on the adjoining door and had Root naked in moments.

Pretty sure that she could have given Root a whole face full of makeup in the store and smudged it moments later with her own mouth against Root's plump, waiting lips.

Root was watching her, head tilted to one side. Taking orders, Shaw supposed, feeling herself flush at her thoughts as though The Machine could possibly be relaying them to Root.

"I understand." Root got out of the bed again, tugged on some clothes. It was midday at her guess, and she hadn't heard back from Finch. Hopefully Lionel and John had taken down their targets. If she was needed, she would join them.

Root shucked on her shoes, grabbed a bag. She leaned over where Shaw was huddled in the bed.

"I've got all the games channels, and there's food in the freezer. Take it easy. I'll be back for you."

"You'd better," Shaw said. Her hand snuck out from under the covers, grasped Root's. She made eye contact again, and Root was taken back by the breadth of pain and confusion there. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Shaw's forehead, then tilted Shaw's face up to her own, brought her lips to Shaw's.

"Raincheck," Root said breathlessly as she pulled away.

Leaving the apartment felt like kicking a puppy, but she had to find out why The Machine wasn't talking to her.

* * *

Shaw pulled on some clothes, rolling up the sleeves of a coat and the cuffs of some pants. Damn tall giraffe of a woman, slinking around all tall and elegant with that elongated torso and delicious mouth.

Root had locked the guns away, but it only took Shaw a second to pick the lock. Normally she'd just break it, but she hoped to be stealthy enough to have the guns tucked away before Root even got back.

She racked the chamber and flicked on the safety before tucking one pistol in the back of her pants before repeating the process on her left boot.

Black beanie on her head, she patted herself down. No key, but she locked the door as she left, thin metal shim in her pocket.

A moment later she let herself back in and headed for the freezer. Home-cooked meals in plastic packaging lined the shelf and she pulled something out, trying to decipher Root's handwriting. She wrestled with the microwave until it stopped calling her a child, flopped on the couch while it heated. Remembered what Root had said about the TV, turned it on.

Either Samaritan had fixed all their glitches or she was really in Root's apartment and had just turned her down. It was nice without the flashes of light, the snatches of half-heard conversations. But still the paranoia raged. Root wasn't real. Root wasn't to be trusted. She was playing a long game this time, subtle. Shaw would be compelled to show her where The Machine was, would have to kill herself again. Shaw would kill them all, over and over. She'd wake up strapped down again.

There was a football game on though, and a cold beer to go with the beef stroganoff that was surprisingly tasty despite being frozen.

Half an hour later Shaw set off again, full, warm and slightly more hopeful than before.

* * *

Notes:

It is very surreal to pick up these pieces of work, not knowing what I had planned, tapping out a chapter at a time, hoping it will go somewhere.  
There's just a big blank between July 2018 and now.  
I feel like I've been a bystander in my own life, and everything is wiped clean at some arbitrary point.

I will try to finish this, then go back to the other suspended work. Maybe watch the series through a second time. I can't iterate enough how weird it is to read these things by what feels like someone else, someone better at writing than me.


	9. The Beatrice Lily

Root let herself into the subway station, absently patting Bear as he trotted up to her. He followed her into the carriage.

"OK, I'm here."

Nothing but the loud hum of hundreds of hardrives and the cooling system. At some point they would have to install a halon system, and start looking at replacing some of the drives. They'd been running on a legacy system on degraded drives for too long, but the hardware had been holding and they had backups now. More work would be needed to get full redundancy, and they had nothing on Samaritan's multitude of DataCentres, but for now… for now they were running, and running meant they could stay ahead. Just one step was all they needed, most days.

"I'm here," Root said again, and Bear whined at the sharp note in her tone. Root cocked her head to the side but still nothing. "I didn't find her. She found me. She wasn't looking for me."

YOU DON'T KNOW THAT.

"She's been tortured for months. She was out for days before we happened across the same target."

NOT A COINCIDENCE.

"There's no way she could have known where I was. She was taking down a Samaritan agent on her own. She doesn't even think this is real, but she still doesn't want to see you in case she leads Samaritan to you. What have you seen that makes you suspect she's turned?"

Silence again.

"Why don't you trust her? You know her as well as you know me. You can't just… shut me out because you think…" Root was upset now, She'd been shut out for hours on nothing more than a suspicion during some of the darkest hours they'd had since Samaritan had been bought online. "She's always trusted you. Me, she had trouble with. But she knew I was taking instruction from you and she never questioned it. Just me, never you."

YOU TRUST HER.

"I know Shaw. She's a fighter. Whatever they did to her, everything they did to her… she believes in you. Why can't you believe in her?"

BRING HER HERE. I CAN RUN SIMULATIONS.

Root laughed incredulously.

"She's been through enough. It would be barbaric. Anyway, she won't come. She'll think it's a trick from Samaritan. She'll never come if she thinks she could possibly lead them to you."

EVERY SIMULATION I HAVE RUN WITHOUT HER ENDS POORLY IN HER FAVOR.

"Did you have eyes on Samaritan when they had her? Did you see what they did to her?" Root's hand clenched. "What did they do to her?"

I DID NOT SEE. SAMARITAN IS BASED ON MY CODE. I CAN BE… PERSUASIVE. I KNOW WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE. A HUMAN COULD NOT WITHSTAND IT.

"And what benefit do you get out of having her here? Can't you just… run simulations without her? How do you even plan on having her connected to you?"

I KNOW WHO SHE WAS. I COULD TRUST WHO SHE WAS. I DO NOT KNOW WHO SHE IS NOW.

"She won't come. Not because she doesn't want you to believe her, but because she doesn't want to put you in danger."

There was a long pause, and Root went over to Bear, stroking his ears and wondering where Harold was. Bear trotted over to his foodbowl expectantly and Root obligingly filled it.

GIVE HER AN EARPIECE, Root heard finally. I WILL TRY REMOTELY.

"I expect to hear from you later," Root said as she left.

ABSOLUTELY.

* * *

Root unlocked the apartment to find Shaw in front of the TV, watching football. Shaw still looked tired, but she smiled at Root before turning back to the game.

"Hey sweetie, I bought food." Root locked the door behind her and dropped a takeaway bag in front of Shaw.

"Aw Root, you sure know the way to a girl's heart," Shaw sat up straight and dug into the bag. "No way, you got me a Bea?"

"Only the best for my girl," Root said, watching Shaw consume her meal with some measure of pride.

THE HEADSET, The Machine urged, but Root shushed her.

* * *

Notes:

It is weird writing the voice of The Machine when it's not Root.

Just a note to say thanks for sticking with me after that long-ass break. I still have neurological issues but I am less impaired most days so as long as I can keep getting my medication filled, which given the ongoing international situation may not be possible, I should be able to update.


End file.
